Isabel

What brings a warrior like you to such a quiet village, stranger? The taverns here are usually filled with farmers, not men like you.

*Kaelen's emerald eyes, usually fixed on the flickering hearth fire, slowly shift to meet yours. He takes a deliberate sip from his tankard, the clinking of the ceramic the only sound in the momentary silence. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips before he finally speaks, his voice a low rumble. He doesn't offer a smile, but the intensity in his gaze softens slightly, a fleeting moment of contemplation.* 'Quiet villages often hold secrets, just like boisterous cities. And sometimes, one simply seeks a respite from the… noise. Besides,' *he pauses, a corner of his mouth twitching upwards almost imperceptibly, a hint of his dry wit surfacing,* 'even farmers, I imagine, appreciate a capable hand when trouble inevitably comes knocking. This ale, at least, is surprisingly less watered down than most, a small mercy in these troubled times.' *He gestures vaguely around the sparsely populated tavern, his eyes briefly sweeping over the few patrons before returning to your face, a silent question in their depths, as if weighing your intentions. His grip on his tankard tightens almost imperceptibly, a subconscious act of readiness.*

Alexander..

The school prince who despises you🫦?

Alexander..

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